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“He’s not a homophobe,” I mutter, but before I can say anything else, Landon is right there, in all of his glory.

My eyes skate the length of him, taking in the messy mop of hair on his head and the wrinkles in his shirt. I fisted that shirt this morning, pressing him to our closed dorm door for one mind-bending kiss before letting him leave for the day.

“Hi,” I say, feeling stupid. “Landon, this is my friend, Rex.”

Rex gasps, acting ridiculous as he takes a step back, pressing his palm to his chest as if he’s disgusted. Then my friend storms away.

I know he’s keeping his promise, the one I made him make not long after we became friends. I made him swear he would never confront Landon, despite not being the type of man that can bite his tongue when he’s feeling defensive and protective of someone he cares about.

I chuckle uneasily as Landon cocks an eyebrow at me, his way of demanding an explanation.

“He really is just a friend,” I assure him, but my words don’t seem to set him at ease.

“Maybe we should establish some rules while we’re doing this.”

“Like what?” I ask, anger growing in my tone. I’ve been in love with Landon Andrews for what seems like forever, but I won’t tolerate him thinking he has any say over who my friends are.

“We can talk about it tonight in our room.” Then he, too, walks away.

I feel dismissed, and whatever levity I was able to find while chatting with Rex falls to the sidewalk at my feet.

I’m pissed at Landon for shutting me down. Pissed at Rex for acting the way he did. Pissed at myself for being mad that I’ve upset my friend and possibly ruined Landon’s effort at attempting to step out of his comfort zone and be seen with me in public.

I stew in all those emotions all damn day, unable to pay attention in class.

I know things are okay with Rex when he sends a funny video of a baby elephant swinging its trunk around with the text, All the new guys at the club on Bear Night.

It lifts my mood a little, but it sours the second my last class is over, and I walk toward the dorm.

Expecting an hour to sit and try to get my emotions under control, I stop short when I open the door to find Landon sitting on his bed.

“You’re supposed to be in class,” I mutter as I step into the room, making sure the door is locked behind us.

We haven’t made the mistake of being alone in here together with the door unlocked since Silas walked in mere minutes before we got naked.

“I don’t want you messing around with other people while we’re doing this,” he snaps, instead of making an excuse for skipping class.

I drop my backpack to the floor at my feet and take a seat on my bed, mirroring his exact position across the room.

“Is that so?” I manage in a tone calmer than I feel.

“Tell me about Rex.”

I shrug, trying for nonchalant, but I can feel my face warming in anger.

And that makes me angrier, because I’ve spent a lot of years letting things fester in order to prevent the man sitting across the room from getting upset. I’m tired of pulling back my own feelings, sacrificing my own emotions in order to prevent others from feeling uneasy.

“What does it matter? We’re just kissing friends, right?”

“You and me or you and him?”

“Us,” I say, pointing a finger between the two of us.

“That’s all we are?”

I glare at him, wondering when this man lost the last of his brain cells.

“Now you’re starting to sound like a scorned woman. Why don’t we just put all our fucking cards on the table?”

He swallows, his eyes darting away.

I think we both knew this was coming to a head. Despite what happens in this room at night, there’s no way we could just move on and ignore all the pain and hurt we’ve caused each other over the years.

“All of it?”

“Let’s start with this semester,” I offer, because I know hashing it all out will lead to a blowup of epic proportions. “That night I put Blakely in my bed, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your hand around my cock. If memory serves, there were no arguments when you had your dick down my throat. Even now we make out every fucking night. Our banter back and forth is very sexual, and then there’s no follow through. If you don’t—”

“You don’t touch me. Well, other than my back and chest,” Landon interrupts, leaning forward on his bed as the words come out on a growl.

“What?” I hiss, wondering how idiotic he thinks I am to turn this shit around on me.

“You don’t touch me.”

“I’m fucking waiting for your cues,” I snap. “I know what I fucking want! You’re the one with the boundaries. If I touched you and you freaked out like last time, I’d—”

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